Over the line
by FearandLoathingXIX
Summary: The first time he met her, Anna spat at him. A human spat on a Seraph. It was by no means the last time A012 would be extending bodily fluids Kratos's way. Recontinued a second time.
1. I

Okay, so in celebration of re-continuing this again, I decided to re-write it with all the wisdom I've gained since I began. Which is quite a lot.

Still essentially the same, but at the same time now. Enjoy.

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The first time he saw her, she spat at him.

A human being _spat _at a Seraph.

Her spittle was thick and bloodied, as the guards had beaten her that day, and before she had been brought to him. The bead of salvia flew through the air and landed on the tiles near his boots, as if to compare the two as one and the same. He didn't even know _why _she spat at him; she did it the moment the guards dumped her on the ground in front of him.

"Filthy Desians…" she hissed, and recieved a rough smack to the back of her head for her rude tongue. More drops of spit, or blood, or _both_ expelled from her mouth after she'd been struck, and a trickle of the mixture oozed from the corner of her mouth and trailed down her chin.

She was not a sight for the faint-hearted.

"Heh," she scoffed weakly, her breath wheezing inside her chest. "Beatin' a defenceless woman. You must feel _really_ proud of yo'selves…"

"That's _enough_ from you!" one of the guards screamed; her comments had obviously hit home, and he prepared to strike her again. She took the blow across the cheek and barely flinched. Kratos saw her wince, and heard the impact of the guard's gauntlet on her fragile cheekbone, but did nothing to stop this.

"Tch…" the woman muttered, running her tongue along the front of her teeth, swilling blood and saliva around her mouth, then pursing her lips she spat a tiny chip of enamel by Kratos's feet. "_Barbarians_…"

"You would do well to hold your tongue," he said calmly, shifting his foot back from the place her fragment of tooth had landed. Such things were not clean.

"Or what?" she retorted, suddenly turning up her face and staring straight into his eyes. "What'll you do to me if I don't?" She was beaten and dirty, with a split lip and fading bruise on her forehead, covered up by her ragged hair. She would have more bruises before the day was out, but even though this he could see she had large, almond-shaped eyes, very-much like a cat's. Kratos could tell she was not a human taken from the local area, because they all had much smaller and flatter eyes here, and round faces, unlike her own heart-shaped one.

In another time and place perhaps she would've been considered a pretty young girl, but here and now she was a filthy, disgusting _rat_, and she was directly challenging him. These _things_ were not supposed to look their masters in the eye.

"You know what happens to those who flout the rules," he said coldly, but she only narrowed those feline eyes and sucked the corner of her lip where it bled.

"That right?" she replied cruelly, and Kratos observed that for a prisoner of a human ranch she was acting _awfully _high-and-mighty. "Well it don't make no difference t'me whether I get beat or not. Kill me if y'want to." She glared at him again. "Though I don't think y'd want to git those nice 'ands dirty and all on me, right?"

Kratos could not tell if she was being sarcastic or not, because both he and the guards knew she wasn't permitted to die in this ranch, because implanted in the middle of her chest was a new exsphere – one that could revolutionize the power of the expshere. She could not die while it was still incomplete, and Kratos could see the wrinkled contortion in her chest where the sphere faintly glowed; implanted right over her heart; directly sapping her lifeforce.

There was a large tear in her shirt that revealed this exsphere, and a great deal more of her chest, but Kratos paid no more or less attention to that. Human anatomy was not new or interesting to him, but the expshere, however, _was_.

For this was her, #A012, the subject of the Angelus project. The one he'd been assigned.

"I'll take it as a yes," the woman growled. She cracked her lips apart and ran her tongue along her chipped tooth. "They need me alive for this _sphere _thing or whatever anyway." She thrust her chest up at him, but Kratos doubted it was meant to be a sexual move.

Then this nobody, this pawn in the gods' game, this _vessel _for something far greater than she could ever be, turned and spat another mouthful of blood onto one of the guard's trouser leg. "You lot still 'ere? Go to hell, yo," she snapped, and then turned her face up to Kratos's again. "I 'ope you go wiv 'em, too."

"You rotten little slut!" the Desian she'd spat on roared, and seized her by the back of her hair and pulled her towards him; his other hand fisted and ready to crush her delicate nose. "I swear I'm gonna!"

"That will be enough," Kratos announced suddenly, sending a stern look towards the men who'd brought A012 here. "You may collect A012 in an hour."

"But…Sir Aurion... our orders were…" the other one stuttered uncomfortably: they had been meant to supervise, but Kratos did not feel like watching this violent drama carry on while he was trying to work.

"Your orders are thus," he spoke over them, noticing that A012's chest was heaving in a way that would suggest she was having some difficulty breathing. He needed to examine her, as the best medical mind in the Ranch, and having these two further weakening her would only hamper his work. "You will leave this place at once, and will return in exactly one hour to return A012 to her cell. That will be all."

The woman began to snigger, and although both guards looked like they might quite enjoy repainting the tiles in a shade of human blood_, _they were under order and couldn't protest without having to commit subordination.

"Sir," they clapped out in unison, finally leaving the research cell that was housing one Kratos Aurion and test subject #A012.

The moment the door slid shut the woman heaved a great sigh of relief, followed by a low groan as she wiped her chin on her arm. Kratos was about to comment that her hardship was by no means over when she suddenly keeled over, hitting the floor with a sickening thud as a stunned Kratos hesitated to catch her.

She'd been so wild just moments before, like a stray animal clinging fiercely to its wretched life, but now seconds later it was obvious that she was out cold; she had passed clean out. Kratos went to kneel beside her and held his hand in front of her mouth to check for her breathing – which was thankfully still there.

She was an important subject. She could not be allowed to die... just yet.

Then as if he were handling no more than a dead body (which he had on numerous occasions), Kratos picked the woman up and moved her onto a cot that had been provided for her.

Her shirt was already ripped down the middle to reveal the exsphere, and it fell open even further as he lifted her, Kratos did not bother to keep his eyes from wandering around her chest. He was not bothered or even interested by the woman's breasts; they were no more than anatomy to him.

Her lip was beginning to swell and dull red blood continued to ooze from the split – judging by shadows of other fists and scars on her paper-white skin, spread carefully over her whole body like an intricately decorated piece of paper, she appeared to always be this troublesome when it came to behaving in the appropriate manner.

And that was only going to make his job harder…

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	2. II

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Re-written chapters will be replaced with numerals in the chapter title. I've changed Anna's speech patterns slightly.  


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Subject #A012 had been unconscious for almost half an hour, and Kratos was beginning to think she might not wake up before those guards came to get her – which meant he wouldn't have anything to show to the higher ups.

Well, nothing _good_. 'She passes out suddenly and appears to be coughing up blood' was not good report material.

That was, after all, why she'd been taken here, _to him_: for 'observation' and any necessary medical attention. As the only surviving test subject of the Angelus project she was vital to its success – and as one somewhat 'knowledgeable' on the topic he'd been assigned the mediocre task of watching and assessing her for an hour or so every day, just to make sure she was going to last long enough to serve the Cardinal's purposes.

He was also probably the most over-qualified individual on the face of Sylverant, having tried his hand at just about every profession of the past 4000 years, so human check-ups were not much of a stretch. He ran what tests he could with the woman unconscious – pulse, breathing rate, a general check for broken ribs or other injuries. She didn't appear to have any serious injuries, and the rest of the damage from the beatings was nothing to worry about; not from _his _point of view at least.

Although, the fact that she'd passed out as soon as the guards left the room, and hadn't even stirred for nearly forty minutes was beginning to worry him a little: it could just be fatigue, or perhaps she'd been depriving herself of sleep for one reason or another... never mind, he decided, thinking that he would leave it another five minutes then wake her up to complete the check.

But just as he turned away from her he heard a muffled sound, which turned into a quiet snore, and A012's breath began to rattle in and out of her chest alarmingly loud. However Kratos was not one to _tolerate _any annoyances like that.

He turned back towards her, and extended a finger to gently close her mouth, but when that didn't stop the terrifying sounds she was making he moved the hand up and squeezed her nose between his first two fingers. He was aware that it was a little trite, but he really didn't care all that much, so long as she stopped snoring.

She stopped for a few seconds, then clenched her eyes and began to hiccup and choke, finally wrenching herself awake on air deprivation, at which the hand on her face moved quickly away.

"GET AWAY FROM ME!!" she screamed as she snapped upright, grasping at the rags of cloth around her torso and obscuring the exsphere from view. "_NO!…No!…no_…" she began to sob, pooling her face into her hands and rocking back and forth in a chocking panic. Kratos crossed his arms and observed for psychosis.

"I don't want to…" she mumbled, sounding more like she was talking to herself than anyone else (not putting any points onto her 'mental health' list). "Get _away _from..."

However, upon quickly realizing there was another person in the room she put a stopper in her tears, furiously wiping her face with her arm and sniffing.

"What're you staring at…?" she hissed drowsily, rubbing her face with the other hand clutching her top tightly around her neck. "Never seen a gal sleep?"

"Asleep?" Kratos said. "Yes, you have been asleep for nearly an hour now." For some reason she looked rather sheepish upon being told this, and drew her knees up to her chest and looked down.

"Show me your face," Kratos said flatly: now she was awake he could finish the rest of the checkups.

"What?" A012 muttered into her lap, hearing the bored sigh of the man by her side.

"Your face, _look at me._" He didn't want to have to touch her when she was conscious, but if she wasn't going to cooperate he wouldn't have a choice.

Fortunately, A012 obliged and twisted her red-ringed eyes up to Kratos. Suddenly a light flashed on and she blinked in confusion. He swung the pocket-light back and forth across her pupils and followed her eye-movement and dilation – everything seemed to be normal there.

"What…uh…._ayy,_" she whined when he flashed the light at her again, "what're you doing, yo?"

"Checking your reactions," he replied. "Open your mouth." She 'did' let her jaw fall slack, but it appeared to be largely because of her confusion and surprise, rather than obedience.

"Say 'ah'" he instructed.

"Uh…_ahhh_…" she said, and he quickly examined her chipped tooth and the bruising inside her mouth: it wasn't too bad, she'd still be able to eat.

"Good" Kratos concluded, backing away from her and walking over to a table with a magitechnological tablet on it. He lifted the device and tapped a few buttons – _prisoner #A012, subject #4 of the Angelus project, condition – good, comments: some fatigue, signs of mental instability, probably dehydration and minor injuries._

"…Hn," a feminine sound ricocheted from the other side of the room, and he cast his eyes up to her accusingly. She was sat on the edge of the bed now, her thin legs hanging over the side and her face downcast.

He was about to speak, to demand what she meant by the sound, but stopped at the last second… it was probably nothing.

"…_Hn_…" she made it again, forcing him to look up once more; and this time she was staring straight at him with those large, catlike eyes.

"You…could…" she began slowly, rolling the words carefully out of her swollen lip as she shuffled her feet together and apart, as if part of some ritualistic dance on another plane of thought.

"…You...could tell me yo' name."

"…"

For a moment he couldn't think about what he should answer, his mind just went _blank_ as he stared dumbly back at her.

Then he remembered the saviour that is procedure.

"My name is not important to you."

"_You_ don't know that," she shot back within the second, and Kratos began to worry the nap might've reinstilled her rebellious spirit – he did not desire to be spat on or condemned to hell (again), so wanly hoped to avoid any theatricals. "I might _want _to know y'name."

"What you _want_ is not important," he repiled, perhaps not as sternly as he could've. Her eyes took on an almost soft edge and she broke away from his stare.

"No… I suppose it ain't…" she whispered; the only way he was able to distinguish the words being by lipreading - her voice was that low.

Suddenly Kratos felt a pang of some unpleasant emotion in his gut… was that _guilt_?

"I…" he coughed, then twisted his face away and continued to tap aimlessly at the tablet, hopefully to make her think he was busy and reduce her chance of speaking to him again.

"…_I'm_ Anna, by th'way…" she said quietly, as Kratos's fingers and thumbs somehow managed to fail him and the slate he'd been holding tumbled noisily to the floor, where it lay flat and flashing frantically. Perhaps it was trying to send him a warning.

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If you're new, leave a review! (Hey that rhymes!)


	3. Not for you

Didn't get around to this one for a bit, but, eh, it's like mindless fic-relief, so bits and bobs will come randomly as-and-when I feel like it.

And short chapters FTW!

* * *

The tablet Kratos had dropped what felt like too long ago flashed and flickered almost desperately, as if it were trying to regain the attention of the man who'd let it slip so suddenly from his hands.

The woman… A012… _Anna… _still sat on the cot, tangled tendrils of hair hanging around her face as she too stared at the flashing beacon on the floor.

Perhaps she was also wondering why just telling him her name seemed to startle Kratos Aurion enough to drop a piece of valuable equipment onto a cold laboratory floor.

Because he really didn't have a clue.

He also couldn't seem to work out what to do next, was he supposed to reply? Offer his own name in return? Form an unlikely friendship with the woman and against all the odds save her from an inevitable fate, like this was some sort of heroic legend of old? Even if he _was _one of the heroes of the stories, the chances of such a thing occuring were next to none.

Especially seeing as he saw no need to stop this 'fate' coming to pass anyway. A few human lives were a fair price to pay for the knowledge and power they were getting in return.

But then... should he reprimand her for bothering him with needless information like human names?

Somehow that didn't feel like the right thing to do... but, neither was telling her _his _name (or anything else about him for that matter). She _did not _need to know such things.

In the end he didn't get a chance to do either, because ahead of schedule (no doubt because A012 was planning to 'trip' a few times before she was returned to her cell) the two guards Kratos had seen off earlier stormed into the room, as if they'd expected him to be having all the 'fun' without them.

"Time's up." One grunted, a whip that had not been there earlier coiled tightly in his right hand.

She knotted her hands tightly in her lap and Kratos noticed A012 shuddering very slightly, before twisting her face up to her tormentors.

"And I thought you'd forget about me," she hissed, at which she was treated to the gristly clicks of a Desian's knuckles.

"Up." He ordered, while Kratos felt almost like he'd been pushed into the background of the scene, something that didn't happen to him all that often (once every hundred years or so was about right).

But it would _not _do.

"Failing to address a superior before entering a room." He cut in cleanly, severely and without hesitation, "…poor punctuality," (being early still counted as bad timekeeping) "misuse of ranch equiptment…" (the whips were for outdoor/hard-labour use, _not_systematic violence) "and disrespect towards an official. Who would your captain be?"

The men splutterd into their helmets, hurriedly and ashamedly jumping to attention and saluting him while prodding each other into addressing him.

"Uh…um…C…c-Captian Lassario sir!" they echoed, Kratos rolling his eyes in pity for them all the while. (_And he was almost sure he heard A012 sniggering behind her hands.)_

"I'll see to it he is informed of these discrepancies." He replied, then slowly following the eyeline of the empty-handed guard came across the flicker of abandoned magitechnology once more.

Damn tablet.

"Well." He asserted testily, "Aren't you going to pick that up?"

In a scrape of poorly fitted armour the Guard lunged forwards and snatched the slate off the floor, holding it shakily up to Kratos's crossed arms. He didn't move to uncross them.

"The desk will suffice." More clatters as the damaged equipment was placed on the table and the offending Desian returned to attention.

Kratos wondered if he really instilled such fear in people, or if it was just this particular pair. No matter, it was irrelevant really.

"That will be all." The highest-ranked of the room announced, "return A012 to her cell. Another guard will bring her back here tomorrow at the _correct_ time."

"Sir!" they chorused, quickly edging over to the woman and hauling her up – her face distorting into a cruel scowl as they squeezed all too tightly at her arms and shoulders.

However, just before she was pushed out into the hall test subject number A012 managed to dart a look back at him, silently mouthing the words _'thankyou' _and sending another short-circuit through his mind again. He swallowed just shy of nervously, and waited until the door had shut before he looked away. He had _not _done that for her... it was...

For the guards. They had ignored him and reacted only to her... he was just putting them in their places.

As a low snarl rattled through the walls, followed by a leathery snap, Kratos wondered if perhaps he should do something to stop the beating that was bound for…for... _her. _

However, he quickly decided that it was not his business to meddle in and took his mind off the subject.

As coincidentally, broken magitechnology tablets _were _his problem...


	4. What I've done

The next day subject A012 was brought _on time_ to the test room Kratos had secured earlier that day, and this one had been furnished a little more comfortably: containing a chair as well as a bed and a desk, along with a changing screen and even a small basin.

It was a lot nicer than the hole he'd been assigned the day before, nice enough that he was quite content to just sit there for most of the morning, thinking aimlessly about nothing in paticular.

Well, nothing and wiring… as that tablet he'd dropped still refused to work, and if it couldn't be persuaded to do so he would have to write up A012's notes by hand and submit them to the database. Which was just tiresome.

Interrupting this train of thought was a sharp knock on the sliding door of his room, accurate to the hour.

"Permission to enter, sir!" a hoarse, female voice sounded out, assuring Kratos that the lesson he taught yesterday had already crossed the ranch.

"Granted." He replied wearily, running a hand through his hair and lifting it off the back of his neck; summer was coming on Sylverant and the heat always made him drowsy. Although, the sight that confronted him when the door slid back was just as good as a bucket of ice-cold water, or perhaps a hard slap in the face.

A012, or what was _left _of her, was more or less dragged through the door by two clawed hands, the reason being it looked unlikely that she could walk by herself: _she was a mess._

The new guards, women this time, let go of her arms once she was over the threshold, and she fell to the floor like a sack, landing heavily on her left arm and letting out a stifled cry of pain as a low crack hit the floor.

**"_…whores!"_**she spat as she hit the tiles, and only Kratos could see her well enough to notice the tears running down her face.

"Inferior human!" the shriller of the women cawed, swinging forwards the tip of her boot and landing it neatly between the vertebrae of A012's back. She bit her lip to hide the scream, but he saw the blood beginning to tinge her mouth as she tried to distract one moment of extreme pain with another.

That paticular guard looked like she might try to strike A012 again, however, on feeling her skin burning upunder one of the most threatening glares Kratos Aurion had in stock, suddenly felt the desire to quickly quit the room and change her shifts.

"We'll be back in an hour." The other Desian announced, only to be swiftly corrected.

"Two." Kratos snapped, and all _three _women's eyes focused on him, despite A012's having a burst blood vessel in it and bearing an unsightly red blot.

"Sir…" the woman who'd kicked her began, but had the breath stolen away from her by another fierce glare from a redheaded warrior.

"Two hours. That will be sufficient to undo the damage you just inflicted." He said calmly and began to walk towards them, which was more than enough to send both Desians quickly out of the room with the all the intentions of not returning before _absolutely_ necessary.

That feeling of guilt that had bitten him only yesterday rose up in Kratos's throat. He was repulsed.

But not by the sorry state this woman had been brought to him in – he'd seen worse in his lifetime (although this was _bad _as far as the Desians went), but by _himself_. He'd _known _that those men were going to beat her, it was glaringly obvious… but he'd just overlooked it, written it off as the standard ranch brutality.

This… it was just... horrible…

A012's eyes were closed, but he very much doubted that she was sleeping judging by how hard she was now sobbing, and from that moment it took all of two seconds for him to be chanting – a series of words on his lips and magic he'd known for centuries.

_'First aid!'_

She winced as the magic stung its way around her body, sealing cuts and wounds as it went, but also setting a crooked arm bone in place.

Then he stepped closer, the magic had lessened the damage to her body, but by no means had it eradicated it – she was still beaten, broken and abused beyond belief.

He remembered why women did not fight in wars – it was because they looked so much worse when they were dying.

He held out a hand, not sure where or how he was going to touch her, but she had to be moved. He'd done it before hadn't he? So it shouldn't have been a problem.

Yet it was. She'd been unconscious before, and now he wasn't sure exactly how he'd react if she were to scream when he lifted her. Badly would be a good estimation.

The problem was that he didn't know where the bruises were. And until he moved her he couldn't really find out.

"A…" he began in a voice so soft it was a good thing he was close to her, or else she might not have heard. But what was he supposed to say?_(Or to call her, for that matter…)_

"…I'm going to lift you," he said eventually, slipping one arm underneath her knees and the other half-way around her shoulders, _"pl…_ don't scream."

She cracked open an almond eye and seemed to understand, taking a shaky breath and tensing up, so he quickly tightened his arms and picked her off the floor.

He very nearly dropped her again, though, because she was just so _frail, _and _light_ and _weak_; and her arm was hanging at an odd angle and her head rolled against his chest and tears began ekeing out of her eyes faster than ever.

But true to her word she didn't scream.

As gently as he could manage, Kratos moved over to the bed (a nicer one than yesterdays, with its own blanket) and set A012 down, bunching up the sheets to support her and tentatively taking her newly broken-and-mended arm in his hands.

She was far too thin, that was for one, and he'd been too hasty when he'd cast that spell and had left arm at a crooked angle, which was for two. Three, four, five, six and all subsquent numbers were still unattended to.

As it'd be far too painful and too much of a stress on her body to try and re-set the arm (as it would involve breaking it again), all he could do was leave it as it was and follow a system of bruises up her forearm; deep purple finger marks where she'd been held down, back, up and away.

All he could do was begin to chant again and work her sleeve a little higher, so he could reach the areas darkened with blood and stuck to her skin...

By far it was the lashes from the whip that were the worst, they'd oozed and bled and tried to heal but the filthy fabric plastered to her skin had both aided her and caused even more of a problem. Even more pain.

So he was sure, absolutely _sure_, that _those _screams that'd followed would haunt his sleep for many nights.


	5. Don't thank me

Happier chapter YAY :P

Yeah, I know the last chapter wasn't very nice... but tch, I'm so going for realisim here ;)

* * *

It took almost an hour for Kratos to mend the damage two pairs of Desians had done to one defenceless human in a single day. And he was certain that given an opportunity he would see justice done to those_creatures_ (and by 'opportunity', he meant 'sword').

All he could feel was a deep-seated pity for this poor example of a woman. She was fundamentally broken, outside and in, and he'd been forcing her to drink the past twenty minutes because the amount she'd been crying was going to dangerously dehydrate her.

To begin with she'd resisted, refused anything placed near her lips and curled her arms defensively over her bare chest – as in order to heal her he'd needed to remove her shirt (and obviously he'd seen an unclothed woman before; _more_ than he cared to count, as a matter of fact).

Nevertheless, she'd still blushed furiously in spite of the pain and covered what unbroken skin she could, quickly and gratefully accepting the offer of a blanket when he was done repairing the damage on her body.

Neither had spoken a word since he'd convinced her to try and drink the water, and as he mended the last bluish mark on her spine (where the female guard had kicked her) she sipped timidly from a plastic beaker.

It wasn't actually necessary for him to be in contact with her as he healed, but it made the process easier and also meant he could feel for any hidden injuries (a few of which he found), but _finally_, when the whole horrible process was done with, he announced.

"I'm finished." Quietly over her shoulder, and she let out a weak sigh.

"Okay." She whispered, leaning forwards and letting her forehead press against the wall, as he backed away towards the sink to wash his hands.

Passing the broken tablet on the desk, Kratos suddenly recalled what he was_actually _supposed to be doing with A012… the angelus project. Her exsphere.

He cursed under his breath, feeling somewhat the fool for getting so caught up in healing her and forgetting about his duties… he'd had so many opportunities to run the checks and now he would have to explain why he needed to be near her again…

Then it occurred to him that in reality, he didn't have to explain anything to her. She was not that important.

Having washed the blood from his hands, and dried them enough not to be overly cold, he returned to A012's side, and very gently asked for her wrist.

"Mm?" she murmured, the blanket now draped over her shoulders and clutched tightly around her frame like an old woman (which she most certainly was _not, _he judged her to be somewhere in her early to mid twenties.).

"Your wrist," he stated once more, a sinful word to be directed at a human on the tip of his tongue… _please._

"Oh…why?" she shuffled around a little and held out a bent arm, _permanently_ bent, he might add. But still functional, so he carefully grasped her tender skin and felt gently for a pulse – it was a little fast, but nothing to worry about just yet.

But now he needed to see the exsphere, and as she was more-or-less turned away from him, unless he asked her to move again he'd have to sit on the bed to reach her.

He chose to move; after all, he wasn't the one still in a great deal of pain (although it would just be aching now, not sharp). This movement that put him next to her on the cot, caused their eyes to meet, and she stared straight at him through thick lashes, her lower lip trembling very slightly.

"I just wanted to say…" she breathed, and Kratos had to blink heavily a few times to keep his focus, "I just wanted to say, um, _thankyou_…"

"It's alright," he replied almost guiltily, surreptitiously raising a hand to draw the sheet back far enough to reveal the exsphere, "you don't have to…" suddenly he felt something warm over his knuckled just as he brushed his fingertips against the edge of the blanket, and flicking his gaze down realised it was her hand, tightly grasping his fingers by wrapping her own around his palm, holding him still.

"What are you doing?" she asked, the heat of his hand tingling with the cold of hers as he took a few seconds to recall exactly _what _the answer to that question was.

"The exsphere… I…" he stuttered, rather surprised that _he, _a man of legends, could be made to stutter by such a being.

She swallowed nervously, and quickly released his hand while letting the blanket fall far enough to show the brightly shining crystal embedded in her chest – now shining even brighter after feeding off the magic he'd poured into her body: it was going to be a truly spectacular exsphere now. _(And he'd wondered why her body had been so slow to heal under magic.)_

"Go ahead." She said brokenly; eyes glazing over with some sad emotion he couldn't accurately place, "it's not like I'm the one that matters, right?"

It was then that the sudden paleness of her skin struck him, as did the thin, delicate, line of her neck and shoulders when they were completely bare and shivering.

With one sharp movement he drew the blanket back around her, up to her neck, bundling her away from his eyes and into some mediocre form of warmth.

"Neve mind," he said quickly, shifting back and making a safe amount of space between them.

"But what about..." she began curiously, thinking that surely he had more checks he wanted to run.

"Tomorrow." He announced, standing up and moving even further away, "...tomorrow will be fine."

"Oh." A012 murmured, huddling herself up even more and looking up at him briefly, "...thanks." He bolted his gaze over to her again, what was she thanking him for now?

"What for?" He questioned a little too casually than could be official.

"Just..." she mumbled, eyes on the floor again, "...for stuff."

Kratos began to wonder just _who _this woman was... she, was...

Different.

And not because of the exsphere in her chest. It was something _else_.

* * *

So yeah... a couple of reviews would be apreciated (bats eyelashes). 


	6. Debts to pay

Sory for the delay, the ending of this one was giving me gip :P

* * *

After he'd deliberately put off carrying out all the checks required on A012, Kratos spent the rest of the day and all of the next (leading up to their next 'appointment') with mixed feelings of guilt – guilty for the awful beating A012 had suffered, which if he had wanted to he could have stopped, and guilty for _feeling _guilty about that… for showing any sort empathy towards her.

It was a troublesome situation, he thought, because she was so… so… _different._

If she'd been like most of the others in this ranch – weak, malleable and more-or-less completely dispirited, he wouldn't have had to deal with things like broken arms and chipped teeth and fighting with the guards and knowing her name was _Anna._

'Anna'… _AnnaAnnaAnna… _he rolled the word over in his head again and again, trying to find the reason why it made him feel so very uncomfortable. Why he froze up when she said it.

_A for argumentative._

_N for never-giving-up._

_N for no-hope._

_A for alone._

…What _was _he going to do about her?

Not five minutes before the time of her third meeting with him, Kratos, after a rather twisted and confusing process, managed to get a rein on his thoughts and reminded himself _who _she was, _who _he was, the _miles _and miles between them and the scores of reasons she shouldn't (and _wouldn't_) affect him.

She was subject number A012: the Angelus project. Her exsphere would lead to a new age of power… not even _her_ exsphere, he couldn't think of it as her's. _The_ exsphere.

This self-mastered indoctrination lead to an uneventful meeting when Anna was eventually brought to the cell – which was more to make a point to himself than anything else. Kratos didn't dismiss the guards and ran all the required tests in just under half an hour, making no comments, although he _did _notice she'd not been injured since yesterday, and hoped she would continue to behave – if only to preserve the exsphere.

Dismissing her without a direct address, as an instruction to the guards, Kratos turned his back to A012 and crossed the room to submit the necessary data (in the end they'd just given him a new tablet – he _was _a Seraph after all, it wasn't as if they couldn't bend towards his will). However, Anna wasn't going to allow herself to be ignored.

"That's it?" she demanded almost righteously to the redhead's back, "that's all you got?"

"What more is there?" he replied coldly, still turned away and not seeing her sticking her tongue out at him petulantly.

"It's almost worth getting beat up, then," she said boldly, seeming to be deliberately trying to provoke him, "at least then I get some _'effin _human interaction…"

He was a breath away from scoffing at that sudden colloquialism she'd spouted, and began to wonder whereabouts she'd come from, before he corrected the thought. Although it was replaced with a fresh pang of irony at her considering _him _'human interaction'.

One of the guards growled as if to prove his inuhumanity, leering forwards at her and making his armour creak.

"You don't need to ask twice for that, runt," he sneered as he flexed his fists, "as a matter of fact, I've a _bone _to pick with you…" the Desian was intending to bring up the hassle she'd been giving his friend during canteen duty the night before: when she'd thrown her soup over his head and broken a tray of glasses on his face – he was in an infirmary now and he wanted to make _sure _she ended up in there with him.

However, before he could even the finish the sentence a higher authority spoke.

"There will be no mistreating of the crucis crystal." Kratos announced cleanly, "it is expensive and time consuming to make, and damage to the host body will only slow the crystal's development, even reverse it if the damage is severe enough." He fixed both guards with a stern eye.

"A012 is _not _to be harmed."

An awkward silence dawned upon the room. The guards were wondering if that was the _real _reason Sir Aurion had just said what he said, Anna thought there might still be some hope left for him and even after their departure Kratos calculated exactly how many repercussions would come from such 'favouritism'.

It was far more than A012 could pay him back for, by any measure.

* * *

Wow this seems to move so slowly :P She doesn't even know his name.

Throw a couple of reviews my way and I promise something will happen nect chapter ;)


	7. Because of you

This one is very largely encouraged by the wonderful chibi mitsukai, who cheered me on no end XD

Oh and I_ know _I promised to tell Anna his name... but things didn't quite work out the way I planned. But there's something nice in here instead, I _promise_.

* * *

Surprisingly, the next time Kratos saw A012 wasn't the next day at her check-up; it was later that evening as he was on his way back to his lodgings to call an end to the day. Usually he crossed the camp by an outdoors path, but it'd started raining late in the afternoon and had yet to show any signs of stopping.

...In all honesty he didn't want to get his hair wet. His hair did strange things when it was wet – enough to reduce Yuan to _tears_ of laughter in the past, and he rather wanted to keep his authority among these people by looking _respectable_.

So he took a series of inside tunnels and a few disused rat-runs (many of these ranches were just old structures that had been built over) to cross from the isolation rooms, where he was carrying out the checks on A012, to the officer's quarters where he had a bedroom and study waiting.

However, when taking a shortcut through some of the Human holding cells, he picked up on some screams and crashes coming from what sounded like a fight down one of the turn-offs in the corridor, which he _had_ been intending to ignore it until he clearly recognized one of the voices screeching the words _'bitch!' _at the top of her somewhat irritating voice.

He realized with an inward groan that it was almost certainly A012 making the racket; he recognized the tone, and some of her strange colloquialisms that were thrown in the verbal onslaught, so reluctant to have to patch her up again (if not for the guilt then at least for the crystal's sake) Kratos rolled his eyes and turned off course.

"You cheatin' bloody whore!" a female voice Kratos did not recognise rang out, and judging by the accent it was no Desian , "your no better than'em dirty bastards, _are ya_!"

"You're talking _shit!_! A012's voice screeched back, as Kratos approached the source of the noise (a single shared cell) forebodingly, "you don't know _anything _so quit chatting out of your a…"

"That will be _enough_!" He barked, sending the older, not-A012 woman bolting down to the ground in terror, whereas _she_ just whirled around with a challenging scowl on her face.

"Somebody cares?" She announced sarcastically before she'd recognized him, by her rule anyone disturbing prisoner fights was only spoiling for some action themselves, "Well that'd be a fir…_oh!" _Her amber eyes widened as she set upon the clash of red hair and purple armour; confronted with the person she had least expected to see.

_"You_." She said nervously, drawing into herself and knotting her arms tightly around her chest, a frown on her face as if she was thinking about something rather unpleasant.

The various other prisoners in the cell stared at the guard on the other side of their cell door – he didn't look like a normal Desian… but then again who _could _he be bar one of them, they'd all given up on rescue already.

"Ohhhh, is that'im then?" said the woman who A012 had been arguing with, (although by the looks of some of the scratches on her face they had been exchanging more than verbal blows), who then she seemed to regard him for a moment "…_fancy _little whore ain't ya?"

A012 made a crude gesture at the woman and directed her eyes straight at Kratos's feet. Why she found his feet so interesting he could not fathom, but the quick heaving of her shoulders seemed to indicate some kind of anxiousness on her part.

"Shut yer mouth now, ain't ya?" the woman crowed, old and diseased. By the looks of her she was probably on her last legs and failed to care about the Desians any more: if she was going to die then she might as well go out kicking and screaming. So, she turned her cataract-plagued gaze on him again, and wiping spit from around her mouth she spoke.

"An what sorta feckless scum is he..." No sooner than the words had left her sore covered lips did A012 suddenly launch herself at the woman, flying to her in a catlike leap, hissing and screaming as she swung at her face.

The woman began to howl and pushed the younger, smaller woman back. But despite looking weak she was strong, stronger than the average malnourished human should be, and Kratos made a note to report these apparent side effects of the Cruxis crystal on No. A012.

"Shut up!!" She snarled as she scratched at the woman, pounding on her chest and probably taking a day off her life with each swipe, "you don't know _anything_!!"

Kratos deliberated over his options, judging by her temper A012 would not obey any orders he were to give from this side of the cell, but she was hardly losing the fight, and if he were to open the doors and get involved there would probably be a great deal of unnecessary consequences.

And the woman _had _called him scum…

However, before he could make any further decisions more words were spat from A012's mouth, ones that happened to catch Kratos rather off guard.

"You don't know _anything _about him!!" Anna screamed as she cracked a hand hard across the woman's face, "you have **no **idea! So shut up just _shut up!!_" Kratos suddenly realized who Anna meant by 'him', as she tore into a dying woman, (and he later realised that he had just thought of her as 'Anna' instead of her identification number).

"He is _nothing _like them!" She spat and raised a hand to hit the woman again, she had not drawn blood yet, but the woman was obviously ill and could no longer fight back, "**Nothing**! You hear?" Tightening a fist around the top of the woman's shirt and pulling her face up to meet hers, Anna let her other arm fall and through gritted teeth whispered, "you will _take back _those words" in a voice so ominous even Kratos didn't doubt what would happen if she wasn't obeyed.

The woman panted and wheezed, thinking she was far too old for this, but nevertheless turned her face up to promptly spit at Anna, who didn't move to block the assault or try to wipe the woman's saliva away, but with a deadly look in her eyes raised her fist high above the woman's face, letting it quiver in the air and hang like a deadweight.

Kratos estimated that if A012 were to punch that woman in the face with that margin of strength, then she would be unlikely to survive the night. He found that he knew something had to be done.

However before he could reassert himself on the situation (as yet again A012 had managed to paint him out of the picture), Anna suddenly calmed and let her body fall loose, dropping the fist and setting herself at ease.

"You aren't worth my time." She spat, and stood up, finally wiping her face on her shirt, which involved yanking it almost half way up her torso, exposing her stomach to the others in the cell _and Kratos._

Everything he had been about to say to stop Anna from hitting that woman turned to ash in his mouth, he was quite literally dumbstruck on the other side of the bars. Inwardly his mind whirred in a panic, grasping for something to say that wouldn't sound odd.

"A…" he started, but stopped again as five faces turned on him: A012's, the woman and three other prisoners huddled quietly in the corners of the cell.

"…" The longer he left it the more of an idiot he looked and sounded like (not that it was supposed to matter to these people anyway). "…You would do well to get along with your cellmates," he eventually forced, trying to ignore the fact that _he_was the reason she had attacked the woman so viciously, "or you will be transferred to another Ranch."

At that, Anna's yellow cat's eyes widened in something resembling panic, and she backed away from the centre of the room as if she were avoiding the limetlight, huddling herself against a wall and not once removing her gaze from him.

"I…" she mumbled, now quiet and docile, giving Kratos no need to stay any longer, as she was no longer endangering herself, "_I'll… see you tomorrow_…"

* * *

Thankyou to all the readers, review-leaving or no, you are all nice people and I hope you are enjoying the story :D 


	8. Say my name

Wow! What's it been, over a year, huh?

Give your thanks or whatevers to this update, and recontinuation of this story to 'Baby Kat Snophlake' REVIEWS REALLY DO MAKE A DIFFERENCE!

If it hadn't been for this girl this fic would've rotted away, but out of the blue she begged me not to leave it and my heart was melted. So as a little refresher from finishing my Nano I completed the rest of this chapter. Guess if you can tell where last year's old part ends and the part I just did now beings ;P Happy reading!

* * *

Kratos troubled himself over A012's little 'scene' far into the night, even until the dawn of the tomorrow she so named arrived, and the sun began to rise over the Ranch, casting long shadows across the yard as the early-morning labour began.

He replayed the previous night's events in his head, trying to make sense of what he'd witnessed… _Anna _had been arguing with another cellmate, he'd passed by, and she went quiet… until the woman called him, what was it again? 'feckless scum', then A012 had thrown herself viciously onto the woman, attacking her without restraints and strength-boosted under what could only be effects of the exsphere.

Why in Cruxis's name had she defended him? He simply couldn't make sense of it… what had he done to incite such loyalty in her?

It was only the shouts and cracks of the guards outside his room that provided the Seraph with an answer. It struck him that with such brutality surrounding her, Anna might have seen his own neutrality towards as something better than what it was.

He began to fret, because when set against the Human Ranch 'norm' of courtesy, everything he did suddenly seemed much kinder, or empathetic at the very least. He dismissed guards so she could get away from them for an hour or two a day, he did not report her sharp and insubordinate tongue when speaking with superiors, he changed her guards to avoid her being hurt, he healed her after she'd been beaten, he'd delayed expsphere checks to preserve her dignity… and there was also last night's series of events to add to the mix.

Worries began to root in his mind, surely she wouldn't think he was deliberately… it was ridiculous, he… she… perhaps she thought…

"Permission to enter, Sir!" the call came from outside the door, and without thinking as he answered in the affirmative Kratos was somehow startled to see Ana012 presented in front of him.

"Forgive the markin's" one of the Desians grovelled when they noticed Kratos eyeballing the bruises on Anna, "this inferior being was fighting with one of her own kind last night."

"I understand." He said, "you are dismissed."

He eyed her disdainfully and she noticeably blushed.

"I…!" she started indignantly, and then lost her flare just as quickly as she'd found it, "I… I… about that…" she muttered dumbly, and Kratos became violently aware that he didn't want to hear an explanation because _listening _to her could be encouraging her, or she could already be deluded and trying to convey whatever it was she felt to make her defend him like that.

"You assume I care," he announced flippantly, and she looked up at him hopefully; all crushed as he said, "I don't."

"Oh," she said softly, "I'm… sorry." She looked very hurt, and he acknowledged that he might've been able to feel some guilt at this point had it not been for other factors.

"Now let's get you cleaned up," he remarked on a different tack, "come here." She froze, and he froze realizing what he said. However before he could take it back she was on her feet and striding over to him to present herself – _she _had nothing to be ashamed of; she won the fight and he knew exactly why she was wounded.

"Actually I can heal…"

"No, no, you said 'come here'," she insisted boldly, and pulled up a tattered sleeve to present a gash along her arm to him, "so I came."

He could see she was lashing out after he'd been cruel to her, but in spite of her aggressive tone, Kratos decided it would be better if he didn't react to any of her baiting and begrudgingly took her arm in his hands, murmuring a few incantations to quickly seal.

"What's your name?" she asked suddenly; loud and clear as if she'd never experienced fear in her life.

"My name is of no importanc…"

"It is to me." She pursed her lower lip and narrowed her amber eyes, her arms crossed over her full chest and radiating exshpere. "I _want_ to know it." She sounded childish and demanding, and far from the timid lily she had been only minutes ago, but he couldn't exactly say he didn't know she was capable of such attitude.

"If you do not obey orders you can be transferred somewhere else." He lied; they weren't moving her anywhere: Kvar was too greedy to claim the results for himself.

"You haven't given me any," she said sharply, "I just asked you your name." At this she reached up with a hand and pulled the shabby neckline of her shirt down a long way across her breast, revealing the new exsphere in all its glory. "If you want to get up close and personal with _this_, you'll have to get up close and personal to _me_. And _I…_" she paused for effect, and Kratos tried very hard not to feel the hair on the back of his neck raise as this slave, human… and _woman _talked to him like she was the one in charge.

But it _wasn't _in anger that his skin crawled, oddly enough. And he didn't care to think about what it _could _be.

"_I…_" she breathed, "…don't get close to people without a name."

"…" He was startled, to be plain, startled and just a little agitated by her; she was so far over the line they both knew exactly what was going on, but she had a smug grin that didn't match the woman she'd been only yesterday and she was hanging her weight on one side and she only had to put a hand on her hip to look completely challenging –_what _was that electric feeling sparking up and down his back and why wouldn't it stop – and he lost his priorities.

"My name is…" he said it before he even realized, "Kratos." A busted eyebrow shot up her face and he almost felt like standing to reverse the height difference between them – him seated and her stood made him feel even more like he was under her…_under her…_ bad train of thought.

"Kratos, eh?" she said thoughtfully, "you look like more of a Lloyd or something to me."

"I care not for these matters," he cut in obtusely, "in return for my name you will now assist me unconditionally in these tests and no longer fight with cellmates or the guards. Understood?"

She shot him a look as if to say 'you should say these things _before _you make the deal', but in the end shrugged and replied flatly, "Understood… _Kratos_."


	9. A B C

Quick update! I was feeling inspired after recontinuing this here thing and it's such short chapters that I can do them at a very low stress level. I burnt myself out later that day finishing my NaNoWriMo (finished!), but woo!

Enjoy the next installation :D

* * *

The next day Kratos poignantly ignored every time Anna called him by his name, and acted as if she'd never spoken to him.

"The silent treatment, I get it," she'd remarked cattily as he ran some further tests to put into his bi-monthly report on this project. He ignored this also.

"Y'nno _Kratoos_," she slurred playfully, drawing out his name and making it seem like something different to the one he'd been known by for centuries; the one that usually had 'sir' in front of it. "You can be pretty stubborn at times."

He narrowed his eyes at her and pressed a small metal device to her chest where the wrinkled and veiny flesh clung to the exsphere, and then said, "Likewise," rather bluntly. She twisted her lips into a sort of pouting smile.

"You 'ave to be tough to survive _here_," she replied coolly, "but I know you wouldn't know anything about that kinda-"

"You would do well to hold your tongue," he replied.

"What? Because you lot have _such _a hard life?" she drooled sarcastically, and Kratos could feel her deliberately provoking him.

"You have no way of knowing," he replied as calmly as his temper would allow him, "I have endured many troubles."

"Like what?" she scoffed, "some 'degenerate' human forget to bring you your breakfast on time?" He wondered idly why she was trying to pick a fight with _him_ of all people, especially after he thought they'd reached an agreement.

He wanted to let it slide. Really he did.

"Like spending fifteen years in a Prisoner of War camp," he hissed sharply, "you speak of matters you know nothing of, so _hold your tongue_." She was stunned-quiet for a while, and then seemed to regain her argumentative powers.

"Where?"

"What?" he replied dumbly.

"I said _where_," she repeated, "where were you a prisoner?" Kratos doubted she would know the place – it hadn't existed for six hundred years. But it made _this _place look like a kindergarden, he knew that much - 'he hadn't had a hard life' - her ignorance was offensive.

"A long time ago."

"How long?" He knew that telling her his name had been a bad step: one leak and the floodgates had opened.

"Are you going to continue to ask questions?" he asked tiredly.

"Are you going to answer any?" she shot back greased-quick.

"No," he said shortly, "so satiate your curiosity. I'm finished here," he said as he finished the last checks, and with a glance at his new all-singing-all-dancing magitechnology tablet discovered they still had ten minutes left.

"Hn," she grunted, and tightened her shirt by knotting two of the shreds on it together across her chest: it occurred to him that she needed new clothes.

"So…" she started after a dull minute of silence, "...how about that weather?" Kratos resisted the urge to laugh at her pointless small-talk.

"…" He saw no reason to bother answering.

"Fine," she huffed, "be like that." He wondered where on earth she found the courage to speak to him like this when everyone else treated him like a bomb ready to go off.

"What'ya reading?" she asked, pointing to the book he had left on the desk when she was brought in – he had no other work to do right now so he wasted time rereading his old favourites.

"A book," he answered scathingly.

"I know that!" she snapped as she got up and walked across the room towards it, although not without keeping a cautious eye on him in case he should suddenly ban her. "I meant what kinda book." She bent down to look at the spine, but it had no markings.

She picked the thing up gently and opened to the title page with the look of someone who hadn't seen or touched a book in many years, which of course was probably completely accurate.

"Th-e b-bro-ot," she hardened the t sound, and obviously realized it wasn't right, "broo-_th_-er-s, oh, brothers," she smiled faintly while Kratos tried to hide his own embarrassment at her obviously poor literacy.

"The Brothers Ka…" she focused on the last word and he could feel heat in his face – he was feeling embarrassed _for her_, but she didn't seem to be bothered.

"Ka-" He went to finish it for her.

"Shut up! I didn't ask you!" she snapped violently and Kratos took in a short breath of shock. "Ka-ra-maa…z-o." He wanted to correct her, he wanted to end it, but he almost didn't dare try or she would yell at him again. Not that it meant anything, or anything.

"Zov," she suddenly piped up, "Karamazov. The Brothers Karamazov."

Kratos couldn't hide an odd sense of achievement for her.

"You read well," he remarked, and her face lit up, "for someone in a ranch." Her happiness fell slightly.

"Well it ain't easy, I haven't _seen _a book since I was in school." Her eyes misted over as she thought about her past, "That was a long time ago too." Kratos could guess it wasn't as long ago as _he _meant, but he accidentally allowed himself to feel sympathy for her situation.

"It is still good," he replied awkwardly, and then felt like he was being too nice: this is what _happened _when you got on first-name terms with someone.

"What's it about?" Kratos was only on the first chapter, but he knew too well – he'd read this book many times before.

"Brothers who kill their father."

"Oh, _cheerful_," she retorted dryly, "don't you have any happy books?" Naturally, he thought, she'd be interested in happy books; they would let her escape from her awful situation. He reminded himself now that she was, as far the experiment was concerned, already dead – there was no way she'd be able to survive, no way at all, and he lied viciously to himself and said that he knew that and he didn't care.

He was letting himself get attached to her – not through any fault of his own though, a quiet and obedient prisoner wouldn't have caused half the problems _she _did.

Still… that didn't stop him from coincidentally just-so happening to have a short, easy-to-read book of a simple and cheerful nature on his desk innocuously the next day. And he didn't feel momentarily like a _good man _seeing her face light up as she flipped the pages as if to say 'for me?', and then as he filled out forms pored over it in complete rapture curled up on the bed like a cat. Her smile was something too honest and good to fit in with these surroundings, and he felt like he'd done a genuinely good deed for once: in this there was no benefit for him or anyone else, it had just been for her.

He didn't feel like a good man very often, but when _Anna _was concerned... well, the rules seemed to be changing.

* * *

I'm going to be honest here and say its reviews that keep this thing going, really, it is. Just a few words encouraging me will spark me off at the right time to go and knock out another chapter, so if you _want _more please ask for it, okay?

F&L


	10. Me to you

New chapter's up! (Obviously). This one I thank Pink Pritstick for poking out of me, and I also wave to Jeanandheralters from Genesis Awards if she's reading this (hello!).

The book Anna is reading is _Little Women_.

* * *

"Poor Jo would gl…gladly have gone… under the table, as one thing after a-…another was taste…ed and left; wh," Anna hardened the 'h' sound and noticed Kratos jerk his head slightly at the sound, she stopped and re-read the word – concentrating hard with the top of her tongue stuck out between her lips in a somewhat amusing fashion.

"W-h…wh…ile, ile. Oh! _While_," she said proudly, and Kratos nodded with a small 'hn' sound.

"While Amy… gi…gig…" she furrowed her brow, and eventually looked to him for help.

"Giggled," he supplied helpfully, and she made an 'ooh' sound, giggled herself, and continued to read. Five weeks ago the phase _Anna giggles _would be as odd as _flying pig_, but five weeks was all it had taken for Kratos to improve the general condition of her life so much that she was practically a different person to the girl who'd been dumped cursing and spitting at his feet. The saddest part was that he'd done so little, and how much of a difference it made highlighted all too well how barbaric conditions here really were.

So she read aloud to him and he corrected and helped her to improve her literacy, what of it? He told himself he was just doing it to provide some entertainment for himself – _he _was bored so he was making her more comfortable. And in his head it felt like it made sense.

"Meg looked…" She paused, and Kratos was about to supply the word – this was one of those books he happened to know off by heart having read it a few hundred times – but she 'shhhed' him loudly and studied the word herself.

"D…Distressed," she pronounced neatly, and looked up at him for appraisal; Kratos made a small mock-applaud motion for her and allowed a face not necessarily of unhappiness show: she was improving fast.

He didn't quite remember the exact circumstances in which he said 'you may read aloud, (if it helps)' to her on one of the meetings when they finished early and she was offered the opportunity of reading one of a growing collection of books he was populating the room with: health services in the Human Ranch weren't in very high demand, so he had reserved this room for his use only for the foreseeable future, and he'd started to leave things there out of simple laziness… among other things.

That aside, she had read silently before, but one day he'd announced that she 'may' read aloud to him, and when she did it was quickly conveyed without words that he would help her with longer words or silent letters etc. so she started to read to him.

From then he'd become used to hearing her voice every day, and as the tests he ran became shorter and shorter he somehow managed to file paperwork saying the prisoner's 'bad condition' was causing problems in testing and he would need to see her for an extended amount of time, _permanently_.

The most frightening thing was he didn't know _why _he was doing this, he had all the power to and never once encountered a single obstacle in his actions, but he just couldn't understand what was making him do the things in the first place – they were so far from necessary he couldn't kid himself that it was for the exsphere's benefit anymore: books didn't benefit anyone but _her_, but still he brought them and watched her expression light up as she rediscovered literature.

He felt somewhat like a young boy keeping a mouse he found as a pet in a shoebox under his bed, secretly feeding it biscuit crumbs and stolen bits of cheese and things behind his parent's back. Only he didn't have a mouse, he had a human being.

"Why are you doing this?" she suddenly asked one day, the book closed over one of her fingers, "what've you got to gain from it?"

Crap. She asked a question not even he knew the answer to, and no protocol could save him now: he _killed_ protocol a long time ago.

"Uh…" he floundered and tried to think of something, anything to say, "that novel should be read by a woman's voice for the best effect." It was the poorest excuse he'd ever excused himself with, but Anna either bought it, or more probably realized he had no idea and was getting embarrassed, so decided to leave him and return to her book.

However the next time she asked him that question, the situation took a rather different turn.

Once again, without really knowing why he was doing this but just seeming to do so by a series of accidents – 'oh and add this to my order form, ah, just put that over there, wait! I can make use of that, don't throw it away' – he procured her a new set of clothes. He thought this could just be seen as maintenance, hers were obviously past their best, and she wouldn't be as cold of exposed with the brand new set he'd siphoned off from incoming supplies.

But when she'd walked in and noticed the folded pile on the desk all she could do was glare at him, and when he told her perfectly calmly that it was a new set of clothes for her she'd angrily snapped.

"What do you want from me?!" She was obviously furious and looked like she wanted to tear the things up, and he tried to say he didn't _want _anything (bar the exosphere when this was all over), but she cut him off and insisted that her clothes had nothing to do with the expsphere, and, like the books, meant that he _had _to want something from her.

"You wouldn't do it otherwise," she'd spat hatefully, and once again Kratos tried to assert that he wasn't 'trying to get' anything from her, but she wouldn't listen.

"You _have _to want something," she hissed, "you _have _to… what is it? What is it you want from me?" Her voice strained and the emotion ran high in it, "What could _I _possibly have that you'd want?" she whimpered, and Kratos started to realize what she probably thought he was trying to buy her – her _body_ was the only thing she had.

"I!" he rushed as he tried to mend his error: he _couldn't _want that, no, definitely not, he didn't, he wouldn't…he… he…

"It's," he breathed a little calmer, and she also stilled, "It was just…" He stumbled over his words and she calmed upon realizing his flustered misunderstanding, "it was just a…" She fixed him with her amber eyes and Kratos realized _exactly _what the clothes had been, and he didn't have the good sense to lie to her and told Anna the complete and unabashed truth.

"It was just a present," he murmured, and her almond eyes widened as they regarded the new territory before them.

The room was silent for a while.

"Thank you," she finally whispered, and tentatively crossed the room to pick up the clothes off the desk: a real and honest _gift _to her from another living being, simply because it was something she wanted and needed. "Thank you, Kratos."

* * *

Yes, finally a bit of actual cute :P

Like I said last chapter, if you want another _please _review, if you don't I won't actually write it, but if you can just take a minute of your time out to poke me a little I'll run off like a good Kranna slave and produce the next section like _that_.

:D


	11. A Zombie attack?

Yes! I finally got all my files back! XD

The chapter is finally here! I only spent like 10 minutes finishing it off, but less talk, more update.

* * *

"They did _what?!" _Kratos barked, and Anna shrugged with a dull scowl, her body clad in a few rags that were trying to elevate their status in life by pretending to be clothes.

"You know what it's like here," she sighed, "it was gonna 'appen sooner or later."

Kratos was beside himself with anger – Anna had come to him that day with a black eye, some scratches her arms and a few more bruises; she was also barely decent. Because, as it turned out, the other inmates had taken the new set of clothes Kratos had given her.

"This is an outrage," he fumed, and was in fact a little bothered by how casually she was treating it – hadn't they been a _gift _to her?

"It's pack law out there," she murmured, "nuthin' I can do about it." She looked pensive. "I don't mind so much, y'nno, because they can take away the things." It was now that she looked up at him, and he couldn't help but notice a small amount of cleavage that her pitiable replacements put on show; however, it was somewhat distracted from by the great glowing pitt-mark of the exsphere. Every time he looked at it he felt a little more guilty.

"But they can't take away th'fact that you gave them to _me_," she finished, and Kratos's anger instantly dispelled as he realized how wonderfully profound she was being.

He was genuinely touched. "Yes," he replied quietly, "yes of course." He felt the desire to reach out and pet her – he began to think he was taking this metaphor of keeping a pet mouse too far.

But then again, why couldn't he? What was to stop him from doing whatever he wanted, as long as Anna lived and continued to produce results… not that he wanted to think about what would happen at the end of those results. He just wanted to follow through this… _project, _of making her happy.

There was _something_ he could do, as a matter of fact. There were a lot of things, but there was something he could at _least _do. He didn't know why he hadn't thought of it before.

He picked up the tablet he was using and sent an urgent message to HQ – crisis: send an officer immediately. The thing began to flash and beep as the warning went out, and Anna looked at it curiously.

"Act sick," Kratos instructed as not too far away a Desian officer got the message and grabbed the nearest whip as he raced to the Seraph's room.

"What?" Anna gawped, and Kratos realized he should've explained his idea to her first as well.

"Sick, ill, dying, pretend you are diseased," he rushed in growing panic as he heard footsteps beyond human hearing approach, "quick!" he flustered, and the footsteps became audible to Anna too. The door burst open just as she threw herself, face down, to the floor,

"What is the problem Sir Aurion?!" the officer bellowed and waved his whip towards Anna, "is the _human_ causing trouble, don't worry…"

"_Heeeeellllpppp meeeeeeeeee,_" Anna screamed in a broken voice, as she raised her face to the guard with the most peculiar of contorted facial expressions.

"Nothing of the sort," Kratos remarked absurdly calmly, "but, as you can see, sh…" He noticed the Desian stare at him suspiciously, and he corrected himself, "the experiment has fallen ill. I believe this is highly contagi-"

"BRAAAAIINNNSSSSS!" Anna writhed on the floor and scratched her nails against the tiles.

"Contagious, so she will need to be isolated from other prisoners." The officer looked worried, but not without suspicion.

"BRAIIIIIINNNSSSSSS!" Anna now produced a very athletic display which involved bending her spine a long way back and hissing and spitting; she clawed across the floor to Kratos's leg and appeared to gnaw on it – Kratos had to hid his involuntary shiver at the sensation of being clung to, even if it was in this ridiculous situation.

"Unless you _want _all the inmates hungering for brains," remarked Kratos with his mouth drawn so tightly together his lips they nearly became a single line.

The guard looked suitably deterred, and Anna dropped from clinging to Kratos's leg (and doing her best to make his heart kick out from exhaustion) to rolling around on the floor again – still clamouring for brains.

"A102 will need isolation," Kratos explained, and Anna's eyes widened as she realized he'd got her number wrong; he'd stopped thinking of her as it. "I suggest we detain her in here. Permanently."

"Permanently?" the Officer echoed suspiciously.

"Yes, permanently, we have no idea how long this will last, and her survival is vital to the success of the Cruxis project. You _don't _want to upset the superiors by endangering their work, do you?" he suggested threateningly, a stern look in his eyes.

"NO! Of course not Sir!" the officer snapped, "I'll go file the move right away, Sir!"

"Very good!" Kratos barked back almost sarcastically and Anna shuddered on the floor – although it wasn't for the right reasons. "Then you are dismissed! Go file the change now and remove the subject from all work duties: as you can see she is in no shape to work." The Officer turned sharply and started to march out the door, and with his back turned Anna she rolled onto her back and Kratos saw the tears pouring out of her eyes.

As soon as the door closed behind the Officer, both of them – Anna _and _Kratos – burst out laughing; great, hearty, makes-your-stomach-hurt laughter.

It was unusual to hear Kratos laugh, and Anna stopped just to watch him; he buried his face in his hands and his whole body shook, his laugh warm and echoing. When he took his hands away, a smile blazed across his face.

"I've never seen you smile before," she remarked happily, and Kratos slowed down and stared at her.

He hadn't laughed like that in decades.

"I... it's been a while," he murmured, and wondered why his heart was beating like that. Like it was about to explode. Like it wanted to crawl out of his chest and throw itself at her. Like he was having _feelings_.

* * *

Done! I've got a load of other things coming down on me right now, so the next update might be a little while.

Reviewing helps, though :P If you sweeten me up I'll go all guilt-trippy and do the next chapter. It's happened several times before :D


	12. Really good stew

Well what's it been? Months and months?

Once again you have the wonderful Pink Pritstick to thank for her bothering me into finishing the next chapter. This just dropped off my radar. Sorry folks!

Then again if you're new to this story (it's been long enough), enjoy!

* * *

Kratos felt like a waiter.

True he'd worked as a waiter before in the past – he'd worked as _everything – _but walking around the Human ranch with a tray of food from the officer's mess in his arms felt peculiarly nostalgic to this briefly-held occupation. All he was missing was a suit shirt and an apron.

He approached the room of his destination, now with a small plaque fixed to the door reading 'Q_uarantine zone. DO NOT VIOLATE ON PAIN OF DEATH'_, and he still couldn't help the tiniest of smiles crossing his face.

He knocked once, and walked in.

"Good morning," he said coolly, and noticed that although Anna was still on the bunk that was now her bed, she appeared to be awake.

"Mornin' sunshine," she replied with a distant smile, and Kratos couldn't hide the fact that he was just a _little _disturbed by the act of being called 'sunshine'.

"I... I brought you some food," he said awkwardly; it occurred to him that he hadn't been feeding his pet since she'd been transferred. The day before he'd asked if there was anything she wanted, and she'd replied 'grub', and he was hit with a terrible sense of negligence – how could he forget that she needed to _eat?_ Wasn't she human, like he'd once been?

Anna sat up to look at the tray, and her expression transformed to one of shock and surprise.

"Whoa!" she yelped at the plate of Officer's rations. "I asked for something to eat, not actual _food_." Kratos was confused, and she seemed to pick up on that.

"I think my stomach might have forgotten what real food tastes like," she quipped. "Inmates don't get that kind of luxury. But thanks so much." She took the tray from his hands rather eagerly and proceeded to stuff herself in a rather unladylike way; however, considering she probably hadn't eaten for about a week prior to this, it was understandable.

Oh yes, and she also seemed to give phrases like 'thank you so much' the uncanny ability to raise every hair on the back of his neck.

"Moomn...this is rweall...omnom...goodu...mnomonom...stufph...omommnom," Anna mumbled in between fat, dripping mouthfuls of stew (with real _meat _in it!); her body curled over the bowl as if she was worried Kratos might suddenly want it as well – it being so good and all – and was going to tackle her and fight her for the bowl of what he considered pretty poor slop anyway. He had a chef who prepared meals for him, if he didn't feel up to doing it himself, as he'd had so long to refine his tastes that he was the only one who could make food the way _he _liked it these days.

"You're... welcome," he said quietly, and then underneath started to laugh a little – she simply looked so ridiculous stuffing her face; she had stew in her _hair_. Perhaps she had transgressed from a pet mouse to a pet puppy.

He knew he could only carry that metaphor so far, though. She was still a human being, and he was technically keeping her prisoner even now – even though it was a step up from her previous captivity, she was still caged.

But he knew, like a brick wall at the end of any train of thought about this girl, that Anna's fate was sealed – she would do a lot for the cruxis project, but her life would be lost in the process. He found himself wondering all to often these days _why _it had to be her for this project, why couldn't it have been someone else, anyone else. Why would _this girl _have to die, when there were so many others who could have.

Kratos had made a promise to himself: he would do _something, anything _to make Anna's last few months on Sylverant just a little better than the rest of her pathetic life. It was a hopeless cause, but the look on her face as she sat back, stomach full and a smile on her licked-clean lips, was enough to make him think it _just _might be worthwhile.

"How... are you?" he asked tentatively, looking around at the books she'd scattered.

"Beginnin' to get bored of reading," she joked. "No, it's okay." She shrugged. "A bit boring, I guess."

"I'm... sorry," he said awkwardly, not knowing what else _to _say.

"It's not your fault, innit?" she laughed. "If it wasn't for you I'd still be in the kennels with the rest of 'em." Kratos suppressed a smile; perhaps she had sensed his treating her like a puppy. He would not be surprised if she did, for she was very quick to learn and intuitive. In little over a week she had progressed in leaps and bounds with her reading (she had little else to do), and although she claimed it was just refreshing what she'd already known before the Human Ranch, he was impressed all the same.

Anna toyed with a piece of her hair, picking gravy from it with a slight blush – she had realized how messy she had been in front of such a proper man.

"So...uh, what do you get up to when you're not here, eh?" she said, hoping to change the subject.

"Very little," he replied dryly.

"Heh, fair enough," she said. "What did you do before you came here?"

"Another ranch."

"And before that?"

"Another ranch."

"And before _that_?"

Kratos smirked. _"Another _ranch."

"Gnome's wormcaste!" Anna exclaimed. "How old _are _you?" Kratos chuckled; if only she knew.

"Far older than you." Anna stuck her tongue out at him, and then remembered herself and flushed. This was a man who had taken mercy on here when there was none to give, allowed her to live for a while instead of just survive, and appeared to actually _give _a shit about whether she lived or died, and not just because she had a special sphere in her. She shouldn't be so rude to him.

Kratos laughed all the same. He didn't recall another person making him so humorous in a long time.

"Where... were you from before you came here?" he questioned after a little while, curious as to the origin of her accent.

"Iselia," she answered. "Or a bit south of it."

"I visited Iselia once," Kratos remarked. "I did not hear your accent there."

"Oh? Oh!" Anna said. "T'accent? That's Ranch slang. I'v' lived ere longer than I'v been outside now."

Kratos too had spent much time in the ranches, but he had never noticed the accent or 'slang' before. He realized not long after that this was because he'd never _spoken _to any slaves from the Ranches for more than two sentences.

Sometimes, he thought to himself, as Anna found a bug in her hair, and crushed it under her nail, sometimes it was all too easy to forget that these were _human beings _who worked here, and not just people-shaped ants_.

* * *

Ta-da_!

Well I hope people are still interested. I've been trying to get back into writing, and I think this is a great way to do it. Hopefully more to come.


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